


The Two Immortals Who Sat On The Bench

by vexedcer



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Doctor Who Crossover, Immortal Merlin, Merlin Crossover, Modern Fic, Post Episode s07e5 The Angels Take Manhattan, Post Episode: s05e13 The Big Bang, Post Series, for both, im sorry, its just kinda sad at the end, kinda sad at the end, mentions of rehab for alcoholism, post-series 5, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1495231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexedcer/pseuds/vexedcer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn’t the good wizard in every fairy tale, despite what River said. But when he wasn’t the main character of the old folk tales, he often met those who were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Two Immortals Who Sat On The Bench

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really worried that I have everyone completely out of character, oh gods. Please tell me if I am.  
> And the location of the bench is 51.607294, -2.946929 (just type it into google maps and it'll take you there.)

The Doctor had travelled many years, and in all that time, he had met many people, made more enemies than friends. He had, of course, saved hundreds of lives, most of whom had no idea he had been there in the first place, or that they had been threatened. He had many friends who travelled with him, inside his TARDIS, he had many adventures and was the inspiration of many more. Of course, not all of them. He wasn’t the good wizard in every fairy tale, despite what River said. But when he wasn’t the main character of the old folk tales, he often met those who were. He had run into the Boy Who Cried Wolf, as well as Little Red Riding Hood and one of The Three Little Pigs (nobody knew but the three wolves in each fairy tale were a species of wolf-like aliens; so were the pigs. How else could pigs build houses?).

He cared for people, and in some ways, he cared too much. He had watched as his friends left his side for a settled live, or he watched as he lost them at the hands of the ones who left he had wronged.  Every unsaved life was a punch in the face, but it was motivation, to save someone else. He found this trait in many people, but often those people had never had to put it to the test, make life and death decisions for whole worlds. One person had stuck in his mind. He was also starred in a fairy tale, a legend, more so. A Great Legend. His kin called him Emrys, whereas his friends knew him as Merlin.

He visited Merlin, he often found the warlock along the meander of the River Usk in the town of Caerleon, the land that was once Camelot. The two immortals had much in common. They had lost family and friends, over and over, and watched the world pass by. But conversations rarely strayed to such depressing topics.

He varied in appearance, from old to young; Merlin liked to play with his age using his magic. He was near always a raven haired 20-something year old since the start of the 20th century. They had struck up a firm friendship, but they saw each other at irregular intervals, due to “wibbly-wobbly” things, as the Doctor said. He popped in to see how he was, every couple of decades or so. The Doctor liked when he came upon Merlin while he was wearing that particular century’s most controversial clothing trends. He rather enjoyed when he met him in the 90’s, wearing overly-large jeans paired with a brightly patterned shirt over a vest.

It was during mid-spring of 2014 that they met again. The Doctor landed the TARDIS in the field where him and Merlin usually enjoyed each others company.

“Why did we land in Caerleon?” asked Amy, looking from the moveable monitor to the the Doctor as he walked behind her .

“I’m meeting an old friend. A very old friend.” He answered his flame haired friend. “You stay here. I’ll be back in a tick.”

“What are me and Rory supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, watch a movie, kiss, do couple stuff!” He fiddled with some knobs on the opposite side of the console, before turning with a flourish and making his way towards the door. “Seeya!”

He shut the door with a creak, and turned to make his way to the far end of the field, towards the figure sitting on a bench. The bench had actually been conjured by Merlin himself. Their meetings had often been them standing together, in the grassy field, which looked especially suspicious during the war. The Doctor feared that people would mistake them for german spies, passing information. Merlin had magicked the bench into being, just for for such occasions, and even seven decades later, the council hadn’t removed it.

“Afternoon, Doctor.” Merlin said as the Doctor approached the seat. He sat down to the right of the lanky warlock. He turned to look at him, his face breaking into a grin. “A new face, then? And really, Doctor, the bowtie?”

“Hey, bowties are cool.” The Doctor adjusted the maroon fabric. “You’re hardly one to talk, you’re a hipster.” And sure enough, under Merlin’s sensible jacket, he was wearing an overly-large, knitted jumper with dark skinny jeans. Upon his face, he wore glasses in the typical ‘nerd’ shape, with the bottom half of the rim a clear plastic. He also wore a woollen grey beanie and black converse shoes that  reached his protruding ankle bones. “I doubt you really need those glasses.”

“You’re wrong, Doctor. Years reading by candlelight damaged them. And you know I’m useless with healing spells.” Merlin pushed them up the bridge of his pale nose.

“So how are you? Its been ...26 years since we last spoke? Surely something exciting must have happened.”

“Berlin Wall come down. Mandela. Princess Diana. 9/11.” The Warlock answered casually, albeit sadly.  “I’ve met Gwen, too. She’s going to the same college.”

“You went back? You told me last time that you never wanted to go back. You said that all the professors are prats and they haven’t got the faintest idea about medieval punishments.” The Doctor smiled at the memory of Merlin cussing about the ignorance of supposedly well-informed professors.

“I would know. Arthur put me in the stocks enough times. And I ran into Gwaine. Well, he ran into me. We were at the LGBT Club at the start of the year. I knew he was a ladies-man, but he was keeping a lot of secrets back in the day.” He smiled. “I haven’t met Arthur yet. Doctor,” He paused for a moment, before sighing. “You know the history of all time and space. Do I have to wait much longer?”

The Doctor sighed. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked that question. “Merlin, you know I can’t tell you. It would be messing with big timelines. You’re destined for greatness, Merlin. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for him.”

* * *

“Where’d the Doctor go?”

Amy turned around to look at her husband walking down the steps into the console room. “He’s meeting someone. Said it was an old friend.”

“Where are we?”

“Wales. Not far from Cardiff.” She paused looking at the monitor.

“D’you think he’s alright?” Slight worry coloured his voice.

“He’ll be fine. He’s the Doctor.”

“Thats why I’m worried. Whose he meeting anyway?” Rory leant against the console. “An old friend?”

“Didn’t say.” They stood in silence for a moment. “Lets go find him.” Amy almost skipped down the steps from the raised platform at the centre of the room.

“We can’t.” He warned her, stopping at the top of the steps, hand on the rail.

“And why not?” she questioned with furrowed eyebrows. Rory spluttered for a few seconds, before Amy turned and stalked quietly out. She stood in a field and waited for Rory to follow her, like she knew he would.

The door creaked open again, and her husband stepped out and shut the blue door behind him. “I still don’t know about this.” He muttered, but Amy was already creeping near silently across the grass and budding wild flowers that were growing among the weeds. The fact that it was spring meant they didn’t met obstacles like fallen autumn leaves or wintry, crunchy frost. The couple sleuthed their way towards the old wooden bench were the two immortals were speaking in hushed tones.

“-But Doctor, its been a thousand years, I don’t think I can wait for him  much longer-” the other man murmured, just loud enough for the wind to bring it to the ears of the approaching pair.

“I’m sorry, Merlin, but I can’t tell you-” The Doctor started to say, but he was interrupted by first Merlin’s eyes flashing gold and Rory promptly falling on his face seemingly over nothing about two meters from their seat. He jumped to his feet before them. “Amy! Rory! I told you stay in the TARDIS!” He scolded as Rory lugged himself vertical.

“Doctor, when was the last time we did what you said?” She said. She glanced at the young man sitting beside him, before looking back to her friend. “For an old friend, he isn’t exactly old.”

“I’m older than you would believe.” The warlock smiled slightly, in a way that was almost smug. Amy’s eyes darted over him, trying to find something on his persona to prove his words. Of course, she found none.

“These are Amy and Rory, they’ve been travelling with me.” Merlin smiled in acknowledgement.

“I’m Merlin.” He introduced himself, standing from the wooden bench as well.

“Wait, Merlin? As in King Arthur’s Merlin?” Rory inquired, surprised. Amy gave him a confused look. “What? You liked the Romans in school, and I liked King Arthur.” he explained and his wife rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah, thats me. And I’m sorry I tripped you up.” He apologised, saying it like he wasn’t really sorry for his mischief at all.

“That was you?” Rory asked, turning back to where he had stumbled. It was evident that what the gangly man had said was true when he found no other source that could have caused his accident.

“You should go back to the TARDIS-” The Doctor started before Merlin cut across him.

“It’s okay, Doctor. They can stay.” Merlin gestured for them to all sit down on the long bench.

“You said you’ve been waiting for a thousand years?” Rory asked leaning forward to see around the Doctor and Amy. Merlin nodded his head, his lip caught lightly between his teeth. “The next thousand are the easiest. I had to wait two thousand years to get her,” he gestured towards Amy, “Out of a box. I was a janitor for 50 years in a museum.”

“Thank you, Rory.” As useless as the comfort had sounded, Merlin felt better to know that someone had gone through similar torture of waiting for his loved one to return. If they had such a happy ending, then maybe he could too.

They chatted until night fell, and he waved as the police box dematerialised in front of his bespeckled eyes. He didn’t know when he would next see the Doctor, but he had promised it would be within the next 30 years. He looked forward to it.

* * *

The year was 2041 the next time they saw each other. Merlin had allowed himself to age slightly. He had lines around his eyes, while a dark grey had started to fleck its way through his blackly shaded locks. He was dressed in casual clothes, loose jeans, a black shirt with a mustard coloured Batman symbol and a thick grey hoodie. He wore brandless running shoes, as he lounged on his bench.

It had fared well in the last hundred or so years, since he had produced it from thin air. It had magic embedded in the wood, so its survival didn’t surprise the man. It had engravings in it, names of people he used to know and love hearts of couples long divorced.

He was surprised when he heard the wheezing, groaning of his friend’s tired ship. It landed closer to the bench than usual. The outside of it was dirty, like it had recently been stuck in a smoky room for a period of time. He watched as his friend left and locked the door behind him. The warlock noted the slump of his shoulders as he walked almost aimlessly towards the meeting spot. He still had the same face, but it was hardened in grief and loss, there was no fire in the Timelord’s eyes. His bowtie had fallen crooked, but he made no attempt to straighten it.

“Doctor,” Merlin greeted him as he sat beside him. The Doctor looked at the summer grass defeatly. “Do want to talk about it?”

“Amy and Rory,” was all that he muttered. Merlin understood. In the time that had past, he had watched Gwaine drank himself into rehab, watched Gwen mourn her brother’s death and as Gaius succumbed to old age.

The universe may be beautiful, but it was unpleasant, and nobody knew it more than the two immortals who sat on the bench.


End file.
